


Unbreakable

by QueenOfRohirrim



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Love, Family Feels, Games, Gen, Jaskier loves Geralt being loved, M/M, Roughhousing, The Witcher sons love eachother, Vesemir loves his Witcher sons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23896879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRohirrim/pseuds/QueenOfRohirrim
Summary: Geralt spends some much needed quality time with his brothers.
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Eskel & Vesemir (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Vesemir, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Lambert & Vesemir (The Witcher)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 553





	Unbreakable

**Author's Note:**

> Does anyone else just love this family so much that they want to cry?

“Are they on the roof?” Jaskier lifted his head from Geralt’s chest at the sound of rushing footsteps above them.

“Hm.” Geralt grunted, confirming the bard’s suspicions in his own, very limited language of sounds.

Jaskier gave the Witcher a confused glance before the footsteps rushed right above them again, causing the ceiling to tremble.

“Why are they on the roof, exactly?” He inquired.

“For fun.” Geralt muttered.

“Fun?” Jaskier’s eyes widened. “It’s been snowing for days and there’s ice everywhere you step outside! What if they fall off, Geralt?”

The white haired witcher smirked.

“Yes, yes, I suppose that’s terribly amusing, isn’t it?” Jaskier looked down at him in horror. “The prospect of one of your brothers being seriously hurt. Absolutely hilarious.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt opened his eyes, a gentle fondness within them. “They’ll be fine. It’s an old game that we play.”

“An old...” Jaskier shook his head, for once not exactly sure how to respond. “What sort of person jumps around the roof of an icy castle as a game, Geralt!?”

“Witchers.” His lover replied simply. 

Of course, they were made of sturdier stuff than humans. A fall from the top of the keep wouldn’t do much to faze a wolf, especially in the soft snow.

“It still seems a bit reckless.” Jaskier admitted before settling back down against Geralt’s warm body.

“Hm.” The witcher sighed, pulling the bard in closer.

“So how’s it played then?” Jaskier wondered, softly tracing through the hair that covered his love’s breast. “Whatever they’re doing up there, I mean.” 

“Simple.” Geralt muttered. “Last one standing wins.”

“Oh...” Jaskier hummed, looking back up toward the ceiling fretfully when Eskel and Lambert passed by once more. “Well, then my fears are confirmed. You really throw each other off the roof?”

“Not that bad of a fall.” Geralt reminded him again. “Not for us.”

“Still, it seems unsafe.” Jaskier huffed at him. “Does Vesemir know about this?”

“Yes.”

“And he condones that sort of behavior?” The bard pressed his witcher, who growled in annoyance.

“No.” Geralt admitted.

“Naughty boys,” Jaskier snorted. “I suppose I can keep your little game a secret then. So long as none of you actually break anything...Why aren’t you playing too, Geralt?”

“I thought you didn’t approve.” The wolf grunted, sitting up in bed. He wasn’t going to be getting any sleep anytime soon if Jaskier was in the mood to talk.

“Well, I don’t understand the appeal, certainly, but I would never discourage any family bonding you wanted to do with your brothers.” His bard insisted. “You’re not staying in because of me, are you, Geralt?”

The Witcher didn’t respond. He only gave a low grunt that Jaskier probably wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Geralt,” The human spoke again in that scolding tone he always used, as if he were correcting a misbehaving child. “We’ve been here for three days and you’ve barely spent any time with your family.”

Again, a grunt.

“You should go out and have fun with Eskel and Lambert.” Jaskier insisted. “I don’t want to cause a rift between you all simply because my bones are actually breakable!”

“You aren’t causing a rift.” Geralt attempted to assure him.

“Oh, but I am, dearest heart!” Jaskier disagreed. “And it’s all your fault, being such a worry wart! I do want your family to enjoy my company, you know. They’re going to start hating me if we continue on like this...”

“They won’t.”

“Geralt!” Jaskier looked at him, demanding, in a way that he knew had the Witcher struggling to deny him. “Put on something warm and go out and play with your brothers.”

The much larger wolf growled in the back of his throat but he obeyed his human, climbing from the bed and crossing their room to the wardrobe near the door.

“Why don’t you join us?” He invited Jaskier after awhile of brooding silence passed between them. 

The bard raised a brow at his wolf. “Again, dearest, I must remind you that my bones are, in fact, breakable.” He insisted.

“So watch from below.” Geralt told him, putting on the last layer of his thicker winter attire. “You don’t have to get on the roof.”

“I don’t think Lambert and Eskel would want me to...”

“Lambert and Eskel won’t have any problems with you.” Geralt huffed. “Get dressed, little Lark.”

With a gulp and much uncertainty twisting in his gut, the bard complied. 

...

“Aww poor little tyke,” Eskel cooed with a sneer as Lambert hauled himself back over the stone walls of the keep and got onto his feet. “You look a little chilled. Maybe we should quit now.”

“Fuck you!” Lambert snapped at the elder witcher, lunging to grab onto him. 

“Whoa! Somebody’s a sore loser, aren’t they?” Eskel continued to tease as the two of them wrestled each other back and forth towards every edge of the ice covered rock.

“Having fun?” Geralt called up to them from the ground below.

Eskel shoved Lambert back and the younger witcher lost his footing, sliding straight off the roof and into the nearest bank of snow with a curse.

Jaskier flinched and held tightly to Geralt’s arm. “Is he alright?” He asked worriedly. Even for a witcher, the fall had looked rather hard.

“He’s fine!” Eskel brushed away the bard’s concern. “He needed a proper cooling down anyway. Nasty little bugger gets mean when he’s not the one winning.”

Lambert emerged again from the snow, shaking it out of his hair and smacking it off of his armored sleeves with a snarl before he began to climb the side of the castle once more.

“You’re going off the top of the fucking tower when I get back up there!” He threatened Eskel, who scoffed at the notion.

“Get your knickers out of a twist, runt. Geralt’s here to play.” The scarred witcher smiled, looking back down to his silver haired sibling. “Climb up, Geralt! We’ll start over so you’ve got an even chance.”

Lambert glared down at the couple below once he’d reached the roof again. “He’s not here to join us.” He growled at Eskel. “Geralt’s got enough entertainment to last him twenty winters now!”

The white wolf growled and Jaskier swatted at his chest.

“Actually, my dear Lambert, Geralt is here to join you both.” He informed the snappy young wolf. “I’m just here to observe. An audience, if you like. You’ll hardly know I’m here.”

“Doubtful.” Lambert huffed.

“Stop with your bitching.” Eskel groaned at Lambert. “Fuck, I can’t stand it when you’re like this! Geralt! Get up here and help me put baby brother in his place!”

“Gladly.” Geralt smiled wickedly, letting go of Jaskier’s arm and stepping over to the high stone wall before them.

He scaled it without a hitch and Jaskier did very much enjoy watching him as he climbed.

“Your bard likes your ass in those trousers, you slut.” Eskel giggled when Geralt finally made it to the top of the keep. 

Geralt grunted and pushed himself to his feet. 

“He gonna catch you when we throw you off?” Lambert smirked.

“Fuck off.” Geralt growled. “Whose counting down first?”

His brothers shared a brief, mischievous look.

“We’ve already started, brother!” Eskel declared, and suddenly, before he could react, Geralt found himself being immediately shoved from the roof by both of his pack mates. 

“Fuck!” He shouted as he sank down into the snow, pushing himself up then quickly before Jaskier could try to rescue him. “You little shits!” He hissed at the laughing wolves above.

“That’s for being such an ass since you got here last week!” Lambert told him. “Think we’d just let that go, did you?”

“Geralt, are you...” Jaskier stepped over to help his witcher, only to find himself set aside as Geralt went back to the wall to climb up. 

“I’ll get you both for that.” The white wolf promised his brothers. 

“Oooh now this will be fun!” Eskel bounced about excitedly. 

Geralt reached the roof again and stood up on the slippery stone. 

“Alright, gentlemen, you know the rules.” Lambert rubbed his hands together with glee. “Five steps backward and turn around. I’ll count us down.”

“The fuck you will!” Eskel challenged him. “You cheat.”

“You can’t cheat at counting!” Lambert barked back at him. 

“You can.” Geralt corrected his younger brother’s fib. “And you do. Let Jaskier count. That’ll make things fair.”

“Will it? He fucks you! Obviously he’ll want you to win.” Lambert objected. 

Jaskier cleared his throat rather loudly, grabbing the attention of the bickering witchers. “In the interest of keeping things fair and honest, I do find you all to be quite handsome.” He admitted. “Furthermore, whose to say I don’t want to see Geralt finally bested by someone?”

Geralt looked down to Jaskier with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, darling. You know I love you.” The bard promised sweetly, blowing Geralt a quick kiss.

“Touching.” Lambert snorted. “Fine then, bard. You count back from ten, then it begins.”

“Right. Right.” Jaskier nodded, still unsure of what exactly “it” was. Still, he did as he was bid, counting backwards from ten to zero just as Lambert had instructed.

“...three...two...one...begin!” He shouted up to the witcher brothers rather dramatically.

Geralt might have rolled his eyes if he hadn’t been so focused on dodging the sudden grab that Eskel made for him.

“Fuck, you’ve gotten slow!” Lambert taunted the white wolf. 

He probably shouldn’t have, as the added reason for anger gave Geralt the extra motivation he needed to shove his younger brother off the edge of the castle.

“Shit!” Lambert yipped, flailing backwards into the snow again.

“That’s one for me.” Geralt grinned, ducking to miss another one of Eskel’s jabs. 

Jaskier frowned and looked to Lambert, who was crawling out of the snow nearby. “Am I supposed to be keeping score as well?” He asked.

“Only if you’ll be fair about it!” Lambert growled, choosing to retreat to the back of the castle to make his next climb. The others wouldn’t see him coming then.

“Rude...” Jaskier hummed to himself, “Pretty but very very rude. I’ll have to work on you...” 

He was startled then by Eskel landing just in front of him in a particularly deep patch of snow and his attention returned to the game.

“Geralt!” He shouted at his beloved. “A warning next time please! I don’t want a witcher dropped onto my head!”

The bard was given a grunt, a nod, and a “two for me” in reply before Lambert made it back up to the roof and began to chase Geralt toward the other side of the castle.

Eskel stood up straight, brushing himself off and trudging through the snow pile towards Jaskier. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked, taking the much smaller being by complete surprise.

“Oh...um, no, no, you didn’t.” Jaskier promised. “Just caught me off guard was all. It was Geralt’s fault.”

“It was.” Eskel agreed, turning to go for the wall another time. “I’ll get him back for you.” He vowed. “Don’t you worry!”

Jaskier smiled. “My hero.” He laughed to himself. He liked Eskel very much already.

“HA! Down goes the White Wolf!”

Lambert’s giddy cheer drew the bard’s eyes and he looked over quickly enough to see Geralt disappearing beneath the snow, his younger brother jumping for joy near the edge of the keep.

He grinned when he noticed Eskel silently creeping up behind the show boating witcher, and he couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out when the larger wolf caught the runt up in his arms.

“Eskel, you prick! Let go!” Lambert panicked, kicking and squirming in his brother’s grasp. “I mean it, Eskel! Stop! No! No no no no no no NOOO!” He shouted when Eskel tossed him over the ledge.

“Well, you’re both on the board now.” Jaskier smiled cheerfully. “Though, Geralt still has the lead.”

That didn’t last long. Just as promised, Eskel kicked Geralt off the back of the castle not long after the silver haired witcher had made it back up.

Lambert had his revenge then, sweeping Eskel’s legs out from under him and robbing him of his balance.

The three were tied, and it staid that way for quite awhile, until Geralt managed to toss both of his brothers off at once as the two were wrestling each other for a point.

“You just gave him the lead, dick breath!” Lambert complained, choosing to climb the wall opposite of Eskel, who flipped him off in return.

Geralt had racked up eight points then, and his brothers both trailed him with seven each.

Eskel chased the reigning leader down, grabbed hold of his leg and caused him to trip off the side of the wall, earning himself a crown in the process, as Lambert tripped over him and fell down on top of Geralt in the snow.

“Ow!” The white witcher growled at the impact. “Clumsy little prick!”

“It was fucking Eskel!” Lambert began to laugh as he laid there against Geralt’s middle.

It was then that Jaskier realized, with great delight, that Geralt was smiling. He was really smiling, and it wasn’t just that. He was laughing too. They both were. They were laughing so hard that they couldn’t get up.

“You two dead?” Eskel called down from the roof. “Giving up? What’s going on?”

He was laughing as well, just at the sight of his brothers still lying there together in the snow.

“Runt...” Geralt snorted as he finally shoved Lambert off, moving to stand from the snow. 

Lambert shoved him back when he got to his feet and they both raced to scale the wall before the other.

Geralt won and he kicked Lambert back down before challenging Eskel, who threw him back into the snow once more.

“That’s what happens when you’re an asshole!” Lambert giggled until he was running from Eskel too.

It was an odd thing, watching these three battle hardened warriors chasing each other around the rooftops like care free children, but it was absolutely heart warming at the same time.

Jaskier would be lying if he claimed it didn’t bring a tear to his eye.

He made a mental note to take out his journal and write up a little tune about three reckless wolflings later, and just as he did the game came to an astounding end.

All three witchers had managed to tie up the contest once more, each having thirteen points. Fifteen made a winner, so now every move made was especially careful and calculated. The brothers weren’t making the same mistakes now that they had been in the beginning. This was serious business.

“Come on, tough guy! Come get me!” Lambert taunted Geralt, who was chasing the younger wolf towards the tower while trying not to slip or get grabbed up by Eskel at the same time.

“Stop running like a coward and I will!” Geralt snarled back, nearly smacking into the tower wall when Lambert quickly ducked away from it and headed back in the other direction, right under Geralt’s arm.

The elder almost grabbed for his brother but that would have tripped him up, and he thought better of it.

“Poor poor Geralt!” Lambert continued to taunt his pursuer. “Too much time with the fancy folk’s slowed him down!”

For a moment he forgot about Eskel and that was his undoing.

The second of his elder brothers crashed into him from the side, sending him tumbling down into the snow.

“Fuck!” Lambert cursed. “You absolute bastard! I nearly had him!”

Eskel laughed, turning to face Geralt, who was equally amused.

Shockingly, rather than attacking, the dark haired witcher came forward and clapped his brother on the back, offering a hand in an act of peace.

Even more shocking still, Geralt took it! 

Stupid.

Eskel’s lips turned upward in a very short, cruel smirk before he shoved Geralt off the ledge and into the snow right next to Lambert.

“OH! Eskel!” The youngest witcher applauded while Geralt was picking himself up. “Playing dirty! I love it!”

“I’m sure you do!” Geralt grinned, lunging at the smaller witcher and wrestling him to the ground.

“Children, children, the game’s been won.” Jaskier reminded the battling brutes at his feet.

“It certainly has.” Eskel held his head high as he climbed down from the wall. “I’ll take your pledges of fealty now. You can go first, Geralt.”

“Fuck that.” The white wolf scoffed. “You cheated.” 

There was no venom in the accusation. Just a lot of teasing.

Eskel laughed and grabbed his brother up in a hug that anyone else would have been punched for initiating. “Deception’s not against the rules!” He declared. “Just very frowned upon.”

“Well won, good sir.” Lambert continued to applaud the scar faced wolf. “Clean tactics get you nowhere in these games!”

Geralt caught him in a chokehold once Eskel had released him, and Lambert squirmed as his silver sibling roughly dug his fist into his hair.

“Ow! Dick head!” He complained while Geralt chuckled.

Jaskier was being ignored at the moment, but this was a rare time where he didn’t mind it much. Geralt looked more than happy, and he needed this time with his brothers.

“I say we keep the fun going, lads.” Eskel suggested then, placing an arm around Geralt’s shoulders while he continued to hold onto Lambert. “The night’s still young, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Geralt agreed.

“So what?” Lambert asked, trying in vain to shove Geralt off of him. “Drinks? Food? What are we doing now?”

“A hunt.” Eskel declared. Jaskier could see the excitement in his eyes even from where he stood away from the three. 

“A hunt?” He inquired.

The witchers didn’t hear him. Eskel’s proposal had gotten them all thirsting for another game.

“Lots of weapons in the supply shed.” Lambert grinned, glancing up to his captor. “What do you say, gorgeous?”

Geralt gave a nod and smirked, shoving his brother back into the snow before taking off with Eskel. 

“Let’s go, runt! Keep up!” The scarred witcher laughed while Lambert hurried to catch up to them both.

“Wait! Where are you...” Jaskier started to ask before they all disappeared into the dark of the night. 

Somewhere in the blackness ahead, he could hear one of the three let out a howl, followed by laughter from another.

He snorted and shook his head, walking back to the castle’s front doors.

Vesemir was sitting near the fire in the main hall when the bard returned, a book opened up in his lap and a cup of hot tea on the inn table next to his arm chair.

“Hello, lad.” The old wolf glanced up at his guest. “Wrangling the pups, were you?”

“Trying.” Jaskier shrugged. “Eskel mentioned something about a hunt and then they were gone.”

Vesemir smiled and looked back to his book. “No cause for worry.” He assured the young man. “They’re not after monsters tonight. Hunting for tomorrow’s breakfast, I’d wager.”

“Oh.” Jaskier nodded, letting out a soft sigh of relief. “That’s good to know.”

Vesemir looked up at him again. “Get some rest.” He advised. “They won’t be back for quite some time.”

Jaskier nodded again, not needing to be told twice. It was terribly late and he desperately needed a warm bed and a long sleep.

...

Vesemir had gone from the main hall by the time the younger witchers made it back to the keep.

They did appreciate the warm fire he’d left burning for them, though. In fact, they appreciated it so much that they all decided to get drunk in front of it and then pass out in a pile on the floor before the flames.

When the old wolf returned from his study to put on more wood, he looked upon his sleeping pups with a fond smile, coming forward then to remove all of their boots and draping several blankets over their slumbering forms.

Vesemir settled back into his armchair after, taking in the sweet sight while he could.

Oh, how they had all grown. How strong they were now. He was proud of his sons, and thankful that they’d all returned to him again.

...

Jaskier was the first to rise the next morning, and the scene he came upon on his way to the kitchens was absolutely perfect.

An old alpha wolf, fallen into sleep as he watched over the pups resting at his feet.

Whoever said that witchers didn’t feel was a filthy liar.


End file.
